the runaways
by rolls
Summary: Subways aren't the best dating spots, and tentative girlfriends are the first ones to leave. — WhiteBlackN


**TITLE**: The Runaways

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own Pokemon.

**NOTES:** I've been meaning to spit this one out for a while. My thoughts get jumbled too much.

* * *

"What are you, a runaway?"

He looks off-guard when she asks but that's because she doesn't talk to him very much. Not unless she's barking orders at him to get his head in the battle. There's a rare, quick look of confusion: eyebrows furrowed, lips parted, eyes squinted. "No," he pulls the word slowly and deliberately, like she's stupid. Then, after a beat, "Do I look like it?"

"Not really. Okay, maybe a little," she smirks. "You don't really talk about home. I don't think you've visited home either, have you? Not even after the Pokemon League."

He pretends to be uncaring when he shrugs, "I have other things to do."

"Really?" The question is disbelieving and outright insincere from the way White pulls back her lip to imitate a scoff. "There's nothing much to do when you've already reached the top. Aren't your parents worried? Don't you have a girl waiting back home?" White knows she's prying now, and it's stupid but she feels like she deserves to know. They've been double battling together for months now, and what began as a reluctant partnership has become a tentative friendship. Maybe. White still isn't quite sure what they are to each other. Battling partners, sure, if they happen to meet each other on the same subway. Other than that, they could've been perfect strangers.

Black just regards her a little tiredly before turning over his shoulder, staring through the window of blurred neon signs. When she begins to think he's not going to answer, he sighs, "Sort of."

"What?"

He turns back, eyeing her with the same bleak-eyed wariness. He looks so much older, lugging around his exhaustion on his back. "I sort of have someone waiting for me. Not at home though," he pauses as if he'd said too much. White stays quiet. "Or, maybe I'm the one waiting," he considers this for a moment.

White thinks it's weird that he should be the one waiting. He doesn't look the type to give anyone his time of day. He grunts and shrugs and glares and walks off but he doesn't wait. She would know; she remembers the time Black left her at Gear Station when she couldn't keep up with his quick pace through the rush hour crowd. "_Asshole_," she had snarled at him, furious and vicious, when she met him again days later. He didn't make an excuse but he didn't apologize either.

White thinks the girl-not-at-home is enviously lucky.

* * *

It's strange how their conversations are always when they're both itching for a battle, sitting side by side on this subway. Black was never one to talk in the first place, so White always asks first. Surprisingly, people are easy to learn if one takes the time to prod, even if it's just a little. Even if it's Black, White learns. In between Pokemon battles and subway stations, White learns that Black hates midnight runs to the PokeCenter, writes curt updates to his mother every month, and thinks that her Alomomola is pretty useless.

"Hey," she warns him because she can feel Alomomola's Pokeball twitching against the insides of her bag. Her uncut nail jabs hard into his shoulder.

"You asked which Pokemon I disliked," he points out in his defense, feeling unashamed. He looks almost offended because for the most part; Black hates it when she invades his space with small things like this: poking and prodding. White makes it a goal in life to exploit this weakness as much as possible.

"You're gonna hurt her feelings," she sniffles and jokingly gives him the dirty eye. "Don't you know that Pokemon have feelings too?"

It's quick and it's sudden because there's a look of young boyishness. He looks like he's caught in between something, like he remembers something he shouldn't have. And when he apologizes, it's artless and true. _How like him_, she thinks. _Not a subtle bone in this boy_.

"Whatever, you owe me all the hyper potions when we get to Nimbasa," she forgives him. White has a theory that Black is secretly a billionaire from all the cash he gets from the sheer amount of battles he has won. Black is also not-so-secretly a cheapskate.

"I just apologized."

She thinks about that for a moment and then, "You're also coming with me to see a musical."

His horror is not well hidden. "No."

"I think Forest Stroll is premiering today. Or maybe it's — "

"No."

White flicks him in the nose and smiles for the rest of day.

* * *

There's a pretty, little girl that grins madly and tackles Black when they're in Nimbasa City. The blonde nymph talks a mile per minute, tripping over greetings and updates from Nuvema, looking more flushed when she greets White. The girl, Bianca, is all smiles and warmth and trust, and White's head is spinning.

_Oh_, White thinks. What White really remembers is: _the girl-not-at-home_.

Bianca pouts as she turns to Black, "Cheren and I have been worried about you, you goof. Please update us every once in awhile. Your mom is really considering putting a tracking device on you one day."

Black laughs, and it gets White's head spinning twice as hard. "I'll write more when I get the time. Just tell my mom to hold off the idea, okay?"

The blonde eyes White with a shy, playful grin as she says, "I think she'll be more excited when I tell her about your new girlfriend."

"Please don't, Bianca — "

"I know," she winks at White. Then, the blonde leans in and talks quietly enough for Black to be out of earshot, "I just like to tease him sometimes." White understands this and finds herself smiling too.

"Whatever she's saying about me, it's not true," Black frowns but he's not necessarily angry. He looks more relaxed than he has been in months.

Still leaned in, Bianca feigns casualty when she asks determinedly, "Do you know about N?"

_No_, thinks White. But White wants to know, and she's prying again. That's why White licks her chapped lips and lies, testing, "Yeah, I heard about N. What about it?"

Bianca looks alert, "Did Black find him? Did you see him?"

"No." It's one answer for both questions, and White hopes Bianca understands this.

"So Black hasn't found him yet..." Bianca is quick to shake off the flash of disappointment. "It's alright. Knowing Black, he'll find him eventually. He's persistent like that." She shoots a knowing look behind, at the boy in topic. Black taps his foot but otherwise, doesn't really shout at Bianca for whispering or being secretive. The blonde looks up to White and confides, "Thank you for watching over him. He's, um, really reckless sometimes and doesn't take care of himself very well. And it's good to see him look healthier lately. Thank you."

It's not like White's really done anything. It's not her job to look after Black, and it's not her job to stay with him, making sure he doesn't get into trouble. White wonders why Bianca isn't travelling with him. After all, White's just the convenient battle partner. White wonders if Black even considers her as a friend.

Actually, White isn't wondering any of these things at all.

What she's really thinking is: _Who's N?_

* * *

Black looks at her kind of funny, like he can't put a finger why she's acting weird. He doesn't say anything about though, just rolls his eyes and turns back the other way. No, he doesn't have to say anything at all because she's the one to talk first. Their sides are nearly touching when they're on the subway, waiting for another battle.

White licks her lips, preparing herself. "I wondered about this a lot: why am I still your partner?"

"You're good at defense, and I can do the damage." A curt reply, like always.

"No," she retorts, "No, I'm not. That's not the reason why."

Eyebrows raise, and now he's studying her. "Does there need to be a reason?"

"I just think it's weird," White blurts out, and Black only looks at her blankly. "You — you don't go home. You don't go back to the Pokemon League. You just stay on this subway, battling strangers whenever the chance comes."

"It's a nice challenge from everything else."

"No, it's not. Not even close. I've seen your single battles; you can beat everyone on this subway ten times over, and they know it too. That's why no one challenges you to single battles anymore. Because it's waste of energy to walk back to the PokeCenter within five minutes of boarding the subway." Black has nothing to say to this, only stares at her a little darker, so White continues lowly. "I think I'm your partner because I hold you back. Because I'm the handicap, and that makes it the challenge."

Black growls, looking frustrated. "Is this your roundabout way of saying you don't want to battle with me anymore?"

"No, I want to be your partner."

"Then, I don't see what's your problem — "

"I just think you can spend your time better." White regrets it, almost immediately. She stays absolutely still to not give anything away but Black still figures it out.

"Doing what?" Then, it clicks in place. "Did Bianca tell you something?"

"Nothing." It's quick and automatic and White smiles crookedly in the end. Even Black is a little unsure of himself.

"You — " He closes up again, furrowed in jumbled thinking. He swallows and tries again, half angry. "I don't care. I mean, it doesn't matter. I'm with you right now, aren't I? I wouldn't stay if I didn't want to."

She should have kissed him right then.

* * *

But she doesn't. White loves him. This she knows. She doesn't know how to stop.

But being in love, on the other hand —

She wants to hold his hand, the one that dangles on the right. Grip it fast and catch him by surprise. Maybe squeeze a little tighter and get him to blush. If she was in love with him, she wouldn't let it go. She'd tell him to stay, make him really look at her, mark him as hers. There wouldn't be anyone else, just the the two of them in this little subway, sitting side by side with their palms connected.

That's not how you love someone.

* * *

White thinks it doesn't matter in the end because Black has probably thought of this months beforehand. But somehow, she still marches right up to Officer Jenny's office and asks, "How do I track a missing person?"

The older woman looks up from her piles of paperwork and taps her pen twice against her desk. "You need to file a report first. It depends case by case how long it takes. What's the name?"

"N."

Jenny squints at her. "I need the full name."

"I don't know his full name," White says quite honestly.

"Then, is there any other sort of identification I can work with? Birthdate, hometown, trainer I.D. ...?" White shakes her head, and Jenny just closes her eyes, counting to ten. "You've got to be joking. As you can see, I have paperwork backed up, and I have no time for your impossible requests."

"Please, I don't know who else to ask. I need to find this person."

"For God's sake," Jenny mutters as she pulls out a slip of paper and jots down an address. "Here. This is the guy who might be able to help. He's hard to catch though since he's on a case right now. But you might find him here. He works with the Global Police Organization. Just tell him it's from Jenny at Nimbasa."

* * *

She keeps the address, weeks after, in her front pocket like a secret. When she folds her legs, she can feel the paper crunching and clasping along with the movement.

* * *

"Black has been looking for you." The man does not speak, and his Zoroark is poised to attack the intruder. White's fingers linger around her Pokeball just in case, tensing at every sudden movement. Even the ground feels insecure, giving way under her weight with each step. This castle should not last this long.

"You shouldn't be here," N murmurs. His gray eyes flicker rapidly to her face, then to the Pokeballs at her belt. "Please leave."

"He misses you, and I don't know what happened but you need to see him. Please," her voice cracks unpleasantly because if she's giving him up, the least N could do is accept him.

"Are you his messenger?"

"No, I'm his girlfriend," she snaps confidently, even with the title. "But even I can tell that he needs you. More than me, at least."

N withdraws Zoroark, and White's shoulders relax. He fiddles with the chain of his necklace and says in an even tone, "I was going to go look for him anyways." The man smiles and looks more like a young boy with the weary furrows gone. "You must really like him to do something like this."

She gives a humorless smile and replies, "You have no idea."

* * *

There's a long period in which nothing happens because White doesn't take the subway, which is fine. She's used to walking anyways.

* * *

"Why did you run away?"

"I didn't run away."

"I suppose that I should thank you. Is that what you wanted?"

"You met N already?"

Black just stares at her and scrunches his face like he's confused. Like he's trying to figure out the next thing to say without her leaving him again. "I did. He told me about you. How you found his hideout. And it just sounds like something you would do." He cracks a fond, young smile and then, "You didn't have to leave."

She plays nonchalance, shrugging, "Well, you wouldn't have stayed with me anyways."

"I wouldn't leave you." He looks astonished just by the notion. "You're still an important person to me even if — "

"Yeah." There's a lightness to her chest, and it's a small giddiness that gets her standing on the balls of her feet. "Thank you. I'm sorry for leaving so abruptly. I — I'm just glad you're happy," she confesses painfully sincere. "If N and you don't mind, I'd like to travel a little more with you guys."

"Of course. Where would I be without you?"


End file.
